Baker's Christmas Party
by Satan Abraham
Summary: Baker laid his head on Abraham's shoulder and let out a happy little sigh. "I love Christmas," he said. Bakeraham. Rated T for language.


Abraham grinned. Art was going to love it. He was going to _fucking love it. _He wondered where Baker had gone, anyway – last he'd seen him, he'd been trying to break up a fight by the cookies. It was between Parker and Barkovitch, of course.

He stopped by Davidson and Stebbins, who were suspiciously close. "You seen Art?" Abraham asked. Davidson waved a hand toward the back of the room and turned his attention back to Stebbins.

"Stupid new couples," Abraham muttered, pushing his way past Hank Olson and Scramm. Baker was nowhere to be seen. Parker, however, was. "Hey! Parker!"

Parker looked up from his phone and met Abraham's eyes. "Oh, hey, Abe. Barkobitch left about ten minutes ago and is sending me angry texts."

Abraham rolled his eyes. "You two need couples counseling," he said. "Where's Baker?"

Parker shrugged. "Who knows? I think I saw him leave."

"Why the fuck would he leave? I threw this entire party for him!" Abraham said. Parker shrugged. Abraham sighed. "Alright. I'll go find him."

Abraham didn't even bother with a coat, deciding to just head out in his sweatshirt. It was snowing. Abraham sighed, putting up his hood so that he would be _quite _so freezing.

"Baker!" Abraham yelled. "Hey, Art!"

"Abe! Over here!"

Abraham waded through the snow, eventually spotting Baker's blond head. "Dammit, Baker, don't leave m- oh," Abraham said. Baker had his arm around a trembling – or possibly shivering, who the fuck knew – Barkovitch. "Uh, should I leave?"

Barkovitch's 'fuck you, you ginger freak' was covered up by Baker's "No, you can stay." Abraham decided that Barkovitch's opinion really didn't matter and decided to stay.

"So, what happened?" Abraham asked, glancing between Baker and Barkovitch. Barkovitch had a lot of snow in his hair. "Snowball fight gone wrong?"

"Something like that…" Baker said, trailing off. It seemed that he had no more of an idea of what had happened than Abraham did. "What happened?"

Barkovitch took a deep breath. "Well, Parker was being a prick, so I decided to come out here so I didn't fucking murder him and everyone else in that goddam room-"

"Someone's been hanging around his profane boyfriend too much," Abraham observed. Barkovitch glared at him and he grinned a little. "Sorry."

"And then fucking _Rank _comes by and nearly runs me over and then he parks and I didn't get away in time and then I get shoved into a fucking _huge _snowbank and nearly drown in this stupid stuff and then he just drives away like nothing happened," Barkovitch said, taking a deep breath. "And then I'm trying to recover from, you know, nearly getting run over and this asshole comes up and is asking me what's wrong and he won't leave me alone and now Ginger shows up and I just want to go home."

He hugged himself, looking more like a little kid than Abraham would've thought possible. "I, uh, I'll go get Parker."

He left Baker and Barkovitch as quickly as he could. He couldn't stand this emotional shit. He was actually quite glad that Baker was emotionally stable, as far as people went.

Parker was right by the door when he burst in. "You! Good, we need to go," Abraham said, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him through the snow. They fell about three times, and eventually Parker just hit Abraham. "Ow!"

"What is going on?" Parker asked. He looked completely bewildered. And cold. Abraham had dragged him out into the cold before he'd been able to put on a coat. Oops.

"Barkovitch is going insane or something, I don't know," Abraham said, shrugging. "He's freaking out."

"He hasn't been sending his 'fuck you blondie' texts for a bit…" Parker mused. They didn't speak until they got back to Baker and Barkovitch. Parker immediately picked Barkovitch up and carted him off, leaving Abraham and Baker to just watch after them, extremely confused.

"Well," Abraham said. "Let's kick everyone out of the house and have some alone time."

An hour later, everyone was gone and Abraham and Baker were wrapped in a blanket and on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. Baker laid his head on Abraham's shoulder and let out a happy little sigh. "I love Christmas," he said. Abraham nodded.

"Me too, Art," he said. They kissed and then went back to just sitting.

That was enough for the night, it seemed.

* * *

**I don't know how I feel about this but it's Bakeraham so it's ok. **


End file.
